CHAPTER 36

Earlier in the day, Aramis and Porthos had visited Captain Treville upon their return to the garrison. They too had handed their mounts off to the stable lads with the same instructions to take good care of the exhausted animals. The courtyard had been rather crowded and they had been greeted by one or two of the other musketeers as they made their way across the dirt towards the Captain's lair.

At that moment, Treville happened to be stretching his muscles on the porch. Bending over his desk dealing with the never-ending mountain of paperwork had put a crick in his back. One such piece of paperwork that not only made his back hurt, but also his head was a detailed report from Roudon listing his grievances against Athos. While he realized it was only one side of the story, there were some grim accusations within the document. Treville sighed and shook his head. He hadn't fully realized how deep the division in his regiment had become, nor how detrimental. His decision to bring non-nobles into the musketeers hadn't been overly popular at first, but he thought the men had gotten past titles and ranks to see the worth of a person, as a person. Sadly, he realized he was wrong and it might just be Athos who suffered for his blindness. While Porthos had appeared in the grievance, and a few comments on Aramis, it had been very clear that Roudon's primary target was Athos.

As had also been his habit, he glanced over at the gate, then swept the courtyard with his tired blue eyes looking for his men. A small shudder ran through his frame as recalled the lone injured musketeer riding through the garrison gate not a fortnight ago. And if the musketeer's condition was horrible, the message he carried was even worse. All dead. From the storm. Musketeers and prisoners alike, though one other person had to have survived for the musketeer reported that the body count did not match what it should have been. Some of the bodies were burnt so badly from the fire that the musketeer had not been able to identify them, especially amongst the prisoners, who were unfamiliar to him. But he knew one person was unaccounted for, and he suspected it was a prisoner because he felt he had been able to identify, mostly, his own dead brethren.

The lone survivor had been taken to the infirmary and the doctor summoned, but in the end, the badly burned musketeer succumbed to his injuries. He had been able, before his death, to tell the Captain what he knew of the rescue of Athos, so the Captain knew it had been a success, that the Spanish captain had been captured, and that the Inseparables were going to complete the original mission to deliver the horses to the King, albeit a bit late.

Ever since that day, Captain Treville had been keeping a weather eye on the gate, waiting for the return of his three musketeers. The regiment had lost enough men to this mission and he prayed every night to lose no more. So, he looked over the rail and had a spilt second of relief before he realized he only saw two approaching musketeers. A frown deepened the creases in his weather-worn face.

"Where is Athos?" he barked as they arrived on his level. He hadn't meant it to sound so sharp, but worry gripped his soul when he saw only the two of them.

"And welcome home to you too, Captain. It was a very trying trip in case you were at all curious," Aramis said with a hint of sarcasm in his reply, even if a smile was plastered on his face. "And Athos is running an errand and will be along shortly. However, we did send an advanced gift of Spanish prisoners."

Silently, Treville studied the two men standing in front of him noting they looked worn-out from their journey, in need of food, water, and, he wrinkled his nose, a good scrubbing. Then what Aramis said hit him. He realized they didn't know what had happened to the prisoners and the musketeer escorts, or about the accusations from Roudon. He debated how much to tell them, then decided it could all wait for a short while.

"My apologies. I spoke out of concern. I'm indeed happy you have arrived safely after your mission. I was becoming worried by your prolonged absence." The Captain held up his hand to forestall Aramis who was about to speak. "I expect a full report, but it can wait until you have cleaned up, eaten and gotten some sleep."

"It's no problem, Captain. We can provide our report now, if you wish," Aramis graciously offered as he took a step closer.

"What I wish," Treville replied as he took a step backwards, "is for you to go away. No offense, but even out here you stink. I'll not have that stench invading my office."

With a devilish grin, Aramis took off his hat and gave his superior a short bow. "We will remove our offensive selves from your proximity until such time as we are presentable enough for your delicate senses."

The expression on Treville's face said he failed to see the humor in Aramis' remarks. "You will report first thing after muster, be prepared to provide your account of this mission. And be sure that Athos is with you," he growled before turning and stomping back into his office.

Porthos, who had remained quiet, spoke now, saying, "He don't seem like he's in a good mood."

"No, certainly not," Aramis agreed as the two men made their way down the stairs. "And for some reason I have the distinct impression our missing third is at the heart of it. The Captain appeared quite dismayed that we showed up without Athos. And here I thought he loved us all equally."

Porthos snorted as they made their way over to their favorite table to pour themselves a drink.

"We cause too much…," Porthos grabbed a roll and took a big bite while he searched for a word. After he swallowed, he said the only one that fit. "Trouble. Even when we don't mean to."

"We have gotten into a scrape or two, haven't we?" Aramis drank from the glass Porthos had poured him as he contemplated the Captain's words. "And it seems like this time, Athos has tweaked the tiger's tail. Doing what, I can't say. But we will find out in good time. In the meantime, I think we should take the Captain's advice to heart. We are a tad, ripe shall we say."

"Do you think it odd, Treville's reaction to Athos not being with us. I mean I understand his concern at first, not knowing if something untoward had happened to him. But even though he now knows that Athos is alright, the Captain still seems, well I'm not sure quite what, on edge."

Porthos nodded. "Oi. Something's got his cage rattled. And when Athos shows up, we'll find out. Until then I wanna get clean, eat and sleep."

Their pilfered snack from the table took enough edge off their hunger that they headed to the bath house to bathe. It took a few water changes, elbow grease and some lavender scented soap to get the two fit for company once more. Their clothes were a matter for the laundress except for their leather coats, which, as always, had stood the test of time quite well.

After a quick time-check, they decided to head down to the mess hall to eat the evening meal before turning in. On the way, they detoured past the gate to inquire if Athos had returned yet. It was an easier method than trying to hunt the man down within the garrison walls, especially if their friend was in an antisocial mood and avoiding them. But the guards indicated they had not yet seen him and informed Aramis that Athos seemed to be a popular man tonight for his wasn't the first inquiry. Roudon, after seeing that Aramis and Porthos had returned, had inquired if Athos had been seen. Why, the guard wasn't sure because from what he knew, Roudon disliked Athos and wanted him banished from the regiment.

Aramis and Porthos thanked the guard then headed over to the dining facility which was quite crowded. Porthos swore as they crossed the threshold there was a moment of silence, which quickly faded back into the normal clank and clatter of a dinner service. However, a swift glance at Aramis told him his friend had noted it too.

They filled their plates and carried them over to two empty seats at a table near the wall. Settling in their chairs, they had that eerie sensation of being watched again. Serge, who was patrolling his territory passing out fresh crocks of butter, dropped one on their table.

"You're a man short aren't ya?" he noted as he made his delivery and moved on.

"Yeah," Paul said from the next table over. "Where's Athos?" The way the man said it didn't indicate a level of concern, but more like a level of good riddance.

"Most likely he's drunk somewhere," an unnamed voice drifted above the crowd causing a number of musketeers to laugh in agreement.

Exchanging a quiet glance, Aramis and Porthos ignored the chatter and began to eat their food. The comments about Athos continued around them growing in scope and exaggeration.

"He's always wearing that hat pulled low to hide his drunken eyes."

"Heard he sticks his head in the horse trough...fell in the horse trough."

"Was caught drunk on duty... By the Cardinal...King...Queen."

"Threw up on the Captain's boots...in the Palace...in the King's carriage."

"Heard he was a disgraced son of a noble...bastard of a maid...commoner pretender."

"He dislikes women...hates women...dallies with men."

"Treville only keeps him in the regiment because...blackmail...bastard brother...lover."

Finally, Porthos slammed his hand on the table, jumped to his feet and bellowed. "Enough!"

"Says another commoner who shouldn't be in the regiment," an anonymous voice yelled out.

Before Porthos could growl out his reply, Aramis put a restraining hand on his arm, urging him to sit and calm down. However, as he was getting ready to stand and make a rebuttal, there came a clanging of wood against metal and another voice was raised.

Serge stood in the doorway between the common room and the kitchen beating one of his giant wooden spoons against a metal pot. A hush settled over the room as the veteran soldier, now cook, continued to beat his self-made drum.

"I don't never want to hear such disrespect for our Captain or regiment in my kitchen or you'll not only answer to the Captain, but also to me," Serge declared as he stood there, pot tucked under his arm, looking formidable. "We're all here to serve a common mission, protection of our King and Queen. And to do this Captain Treville has chosen the best men in all of France to serve. Period."

Aramis settled back in his seat to watch as Serge stood proud and tall daring anyone to defy him. When the old cook was satisfied his point had been made, he turned and went back into his kitchen. Slowly the sounds of food being eaten, the clink of dishes, and soft voices filled the room once more.

"It ain't right. Them talking about him like that," Porthos said angrily, stabbing at a piece of meat as if it were a tiger ready to pounce on him.

As Aramis glanced around the room, he noticed something that hadn't dawned on him before in regards to the seating arrangements. There appeared to be two camps forming in the regiment. Roudon and his ilk, the old guard, certified sons of the nobility, made up one group. Then there was the smaller group of soldiers whose origins were not so grand. While there were a few nobles on the 'common' side, mainly third or even fourth sons, there were no commoners on the noble side.

He was aware there was some dissention in the regiment over Treville's choices, especially to open the regiment to non-nobility. But when had it gotten this bad that the unit was becoming physically divided? And the comments about Athos, which had started from cronies of Roudon, had grown very slanderous.

Aramis set about quietly eating his dinner, his ears tuned to the conversations in the room. He could only hear snatches of discussions, but it appeared they were still talking about Athos and wondering what Treville was going to do about it. The marksman couldn't figure out what 'it' was though he thought, based on a few phrases, it had to do with Roudon and the recent trip.

Porthos was eating his food with ferocious intensity, all while muttering under his breath.

"Did you hear them talking?" Aramis asked Porthos between thoughtful mouthfuls.

"Don't care. They're idiots." Porthos declared, looking up for a moment to glare at the other side of the room before dropping his gaze to his food once more.

"Of course, they're idiots. Their nobleness is strangling their common sense. However, they seem to be very convinced that Captain Treville is going to do something about 'it' in regards to Athos."

"It? What's it?"

Aramis sat quietly for a few moments before he said, "Insubordination. I fear that is the 'it.'"

That got Porthos' full attend as he put down his spoon and looked up at Aramis. "For what he did to Roudon?"

Aramis gave him a short nod. "Most likely."

"Roudon deserved it."

"Whether he did or not is not the crux of the issue. The fact that Athos hit a superior officer is an indiscretion that is punishable. Captain Treville would be within his rights to do anything from a verbal reprimand, to kicking him out of the regiment, to having him dragged off to prison. Roudon and his cronies are going to push Treville for the maximum punishment.

"Porthos!" Aramis hissed at the streetfighter who was glaring at the far tables again. "Don't make things worse. They'd happily see you drummed out of the musketeers too."

"Let them try!"

"Don't give them cause. Let's concentrate on getting Athos out of hot water and not you into it," Aramis half-warned, half-cajoled.

With a grunt, Porthos dropped his eyes and focused back on Aramis. "This is getting out of control."

"Yes, it is. But we need to have faith in Captain Treville. He has always treated everyone fairly and honestly in the regiment. Let's trust him to continue to do so."